Tales of Little Interest
by god-of-crazy
Summary: A few smashers had an eventful, if disconcerting, time from between yesterday night and morning.
1. Intro

Well, after a long down time, I'm back. Sorry for my laziness. It's been awhile, so my writing skills may be dull. Critique or flame if necessary.

I do not own Super Smash Brothers.

* * *

The clock displayed 8'o clock. The sun was arcing across the sky and not a cloud was around. Mewtwo yawned, rubbed the grit from his eyes, and floated down to the first floor. He brewed himself a steaming cup of coffee, grounded not instant, and headed towards the living room. 

At the front door, he picks up his "Wall street Journal" and catches a makeshift Pokeball thrown by a bratty little kid.

He flicks a finger and an explosion engulfs the kid. The child coughs a few plumes of smoke before collapsing. Mewtwo went back inside and called the child's parents before heading into the living room.

Lounging upon the couches were sights that one would not normally see in their morning: Captain Falcon was crispy black and still smoking; Fox was shaven bald; Ness was hatless, and catatonic; Kirby was dressed as a pimp; Link was holding a sack of money; and peach pounded against the confines of a glass box.

But it was Bowser that took the cake. He was wearing pants.

Mewtwo took several large gulps of his brew and floated away.

"Wa-wait a minute!" cried Fox. "Don't you want to know what happened to us?"

Mewtwo stopped. He sighed and faced them again.

"I have vast telepathic abilities," he reminded them. "If I get curious, I shall lift the events directly from your minds."

"You certain you want to do that?" asked Falcon. "Even I don't think we're all right in the head!"

He had point, Mewtwo grudgingly admitted, none of them seemed to be in good mental health. Link seemed the most normal of them, but who clutches a sack of money in the morning? Moreover, curiosity had claimed Mewtwo, so he settled down on a cushion of air and gestured for them to begin.


	2. The Falcon Way!

I do not own Smash Brothers. BEEPBEEPBEEP _Wha…I had the weirdest dream. I dreamt I wrote a fanfic. You were there, you were there, and you were there-_

* * *

**Falcon's Tale of Woe**

Mewtwo pointed a free finger at Falcon. "You seem to be the most pathetic of this group. Did you attend an idiot convention?"

"How did you know where I went?" uttered a puzzled Falcon.

He notices the stares in his direction.

"I knew it,"exclaimed Fox, "there's no way that a person can get that dumb by themself!"

"Did you manage to get through the front door," inquired Mewtwo.

"N-yes, of course. Who wouldn't be able operate a standard oak door with brass knob. Why, it's as easy as breathing."

Again, they starred quizzically at him.

_Again, the eyes, those searing EYES that dissected his mind to lay bare the hideous truth he strove to keep hidden. He tried, he really did, but these masters of interrogation were just too much. He could feel them discerning his answer, already sifting through the lies to uncover his secret._

Falcon fell sobbing to the ground. "No! No, I couldn't open the door! I went through an open window! Are you all happy! A mere door defeated the great Captain Falcon!"

They waited patiently for him to pull himself together.

"Did you try pulling the door open," asked Mewtwo.

Falcon wipes the rest of his tears. "I never thought of that."

"So," asked Fox, "what was it called? 'Idiots Anonymous?'"

"No," replied Falcon, "but you're close."

* * *

"Falcon," the AA councillor said, "you have to turn the knob near a full rotation, and then _pull _the door towards you." 

Falcon mechanically nodded his head, trying to get through another meeting without falling asleep.

"Barney," asked the councillor, "tells us how you've been doing."

Barney stood up, belched and passed out.

"Very good, Barney!" complemented the councillor. "Usually you pass out at the beginning of our sessions."

This went on for about two hours with the councillor's mood ranging from pleased to disbelief.

"Homer, get out!" demanded the councillor.

"Humph! I know when I, and my whisky, am not appreciated." Homer stuck up his nose at him. "Good night, sir."

With head held high, he unwittingly stumbled out the open window.

"Okay," said the councillor, over the screams of pain, "I think we should stop here."

As the members of the meeting called in their rides, Falcon stepped discretely outside. Once he determines that annoying councillor was nowhere in sight, he unscrewed the lid of his bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Baby," he spoke seductively to the bottle, "where would I be without you?"

Barney, catching a whiff of the potent alcohol, immediately awoke and somersaulted through the open window with the proficiency of an Olympic gymnast.

"Care to spare a few sips," he asked Falcon.

Falcon cradled the bottle. "No!" he bluntly replied.

"Give me the bottle!" shouted Barney.

"Never!" shouted Falcon defiantly.

They each grabbed the neck of the bottle and pulled. The jostling split large portions of the liquor on both of them, drenching both in a foul smell.

When the last drop evacuated the glass bottle, they froze.

Barney eyes immediately became teary. "Because we couldn't share," he croaked in a hoarse voice, "we got none."

Falcon arched his eyebrows. "It was mine to begin with, you fat piece of crap!"

Barney removed a filthy handkerchief from his hip pocket, blew his nose, and wiped his face.

"So who won?" he asked.

"Good question," replied Falcon, "none of us had a drop of alcohol."

"I got the most on my shirt," declared Barney.

"No," countered Falcon, "I do."

"Wait why argue like sissies," questioned Barney. "Let's settle it the man's way."

Falcon nodded. "Agreed," he said.

Barney takes out a Zippo lighter from his back pocket.

"We'll light each other on fire," explained Barney, "whoever remains lit obviously has the most alcohol on their clothing."

Falcon nodded, conceding to Barney's logic. "I can see nothing wrong with that."

"You got your own lighter?" asked Barney.

Falcon takes it out his lighter from the crotch area of his pants. He notices the weird face Barney was making.

Falcon points a finger at his nether region. "I don't stuff my crotch!"

Barney shrugged. "Whatever. Okay, on three."

* * *

"And so," said Falcon, reaching the dramatic conclusion to his tale, "we lit ourselves on fire. I would've beaten Barney if someone hadn't phoned the fire department." 

The Smashers didn't hear his final words. They were rolling around in uncontrollable mirth, bellowing laughs that shook the windows. Mewtwo just glared at Falcon before reading a section from his morning paper.


	3. Kirby the Gangsta

I do not own Smash Brothers…since I keep borrowing it from other people.

* * *

As the laughter settled down, they noticed that many women had entered the mansion without their knowledge. They were pampering Kirby, feeding him large strips of bacon. 

"Where did they come from?" asked Mewtwo.

Falcon snapped his fingers. "He's a pimp! He can summon hookers!"

The women stopped their pampering and their necks to stare at Falcon.

Falcon stared back.

"What?" he asked. "Am I wrong?"

The women remove themselves from Kirby's side and blitzed Falcon. While ordinarily one would tire out quite quickly, beatings administered to Falcon by women tend to last over 15 minutes.

Mewtwo grinned widely. Some mornings, it was good to wake up early. He turned to Kirby and sipped from his mug.

"It wasn't a pimp," pointed out Mewtwo. "You inhaled a hip-hop star."

Kirby nodded and made a muffled response.

"Are you unable to speak?" asked Mewtwo.

Kirby opened his mouth. Two rows of giant gold-capped teeth barricaded his mouth. They perfectly captured the reflection in its vicinity with astonishing clarity.

"I see," said Mewtwo. "This will make it more difficult to retrieve said hip-hop star. It will also make it more difficult to relate your tale."

Kirby waved a hand and one of the women stopped beating falcon. She reached into her pocket to withdraw a digital camera and hooked it up to the living room plasma television.

* * *

Kirby could not believe his luck. Not only did he score free tickets to see "Rap Man" and "Gold Brick Teeth," but also after the show, they invited him to the backstage dressing room. 

He did feel a little guilty bribing his way byusing Falcon's pictures ofPeach in her underwear. He reminded himself to expose Falcon's misdeeds. It can wait a couple of days, though. He hated Peach.

While he waited patiently, he looked around the dressing room. The wardrobe clearly indicated their hip-hop roots. So many diamonds and gold, one would think they were the Cave of Wonders from Aladdin, the only bright spot of that movie.

Then he heard a door opening, and there was Gold Brick Teeth talking with his assistant.

"Sue," he said, "I need you to reschedule the public dissing of Granite Fist from Tuesday to Friday."

"But sir," interjected Sue, "He already cleared his schedule!"

'Teeth nodded. "I know it's a hassle," he said, "just call his people and tell him."

His assistant sighed. "Fine," she conceded, "he'll want a favour."

"Whatever," he said, "usually he just asks for minor things."

He sent her away and faced Kirby.

He looked him over. "So you're Kirby, the Star Warrior, huh. Sounds like a rapper's alias."

Kirby smirked. "Who would think that? I'm pink!"

'Teeth chuckled. "If a white guy can become a multi-platinum artist, it's gonna be a matter of time before you start to shine."

Kirby smiled. It was not often he get complements. Usually the Smash Mansion was full of jerks.

At that moment, Rap Man entered the room. He greeted Kirby. "Yo, Kirby! Dawg, you're my favourite player in 'Melee."

"Thanks," said Kirby, "though I wished they hadn't tone down my character's lethalness."

"I hear that," agreed Rap Man.

"Hey," said 'Teeth, "Can you really imitate the people and things you inhale?"

"Yes," replied Kirby, "why?"

"Can you inhale Rap?" he asked. "I gotta see it happen!"

"Wait man," argued Rap, "Why me first? I want to see too!"

"A'ight," proclaimed 'Teeth, "we'll flip a coin."

He takes a quarter from a drawer and shows it to Rap to prove it was not fake.

He flips the coin.

"Heads," called 'Teeth.

It landed on tails.

"Damnit," exclaimed 'Teeth. "Lady Luck, why have thou forsaken me?"

"Quit stalling man," said his partner.

'Teeth grumbled. "Alright, do it."

Kirby inhaled 'Teeth and started to flash. When the light cleared, Kirby was a miniaturized, pink version of 'Teeth.

Rap clapped his hands and howled in laughter.

"Holy Shit," he shouted, "that is da bomb! Me next!"

Kirby waved his arms frantically and mumbled indecipherable words.

Rap furrowed his brows in worry. "What's wrong?"

Kirby peeled back his lips. The reflection of light nearly blinded rap star, but he knew what was going on. Like any rap star, they capped their teeth, with gold. Kirby's teeth were like that to the hundredth power.

"Oh shit, man!" exclaimed Rap. "We have a booked club in two days!"

Kirby jumped up and down.

"Okay, calm down. Tomorrow you go to this address." Rap scribbled down on a piece of paper and handed it to Kirby.

"That's where 'Teeth got his caps. I'll tell them to expect you," he said. "They'll drill through that sucka and then everything will be cool."

* * *

Mewtwo clicked stop on the VCR remote. He turned towards the women fawning over Kirby. 

"Which one of you hid in the dressing room to record this?" he asked.

A brunette raised her hand.

"You do realize that this is not Gold Brick Teeth, correct?" he asked.

They nodded their heads in affirmation.

"So why," inquired Mewtwo, "do you pursue the company of Kirby."

"HE'S SO CUTE!" squealed the women.

"…."


	4. Hounded Fox

I do not own Smash Brothers. Look out (Points to the sky) IT IS THE SKY.

* * *

"Are you cold, Fox," asked Mewtwo. 

Fox shook his head. "No, I'm fine. It's just the areas not covered by my clothing that's shaved."

Mewtwo grimaced at a possibility. "Are you still being hunted by members of PETA?"

Fox shook his head, "No," he said, "I convinced them that this coat grows out of my skin."

Mewtwo took another moment to contemplate other possibilities. There were many, but none of them was definitive in indicating Fox's situation.

Whatever, thought Mewtwo. "All right," he asked Fox, "what transpired the previous day?"

* * *

On a quiet street in the suburban was Fox running at full speed. There are many reasons that could explain his presence at 1'o clock in the morning. One would assume he fell out of his Arwing, a victim of inebriation. They would have to tune into the morning news to discover that they would be right. However, they could not. That same Arwing had crashed into the news-casting center. 

"F#$," hissed Fox. "Okay, calm down, Fox, it's not like they can trace it back to me? How many people fly Arwings? More than ten? twenty?"

While Fox speculated on the number of Arwings on Earth, an ominous force was moving against him.

(In a…uh…evil house.)

His name was Muns. Currently he was scoping the streets with his NVG. He was dressed in military fatigues. Lying around his house were weapons that he stole from the army after they discharged him. This was how they thanked him for his vigilance. It was only one mistake. Anyone could have confused a fireworks show for an alien attack. The howitzer didn't even kill anyone.

Tonight, some flying object attacked his town. He knew that the aliens had come to assassinate him before he could spread word of their arrival. Let them come. Alien blood will be watering his plants for years.

"Sergeant Binky, what are the readings from the Geiger counter," he asked.

The stuff rag doll he placed by the machinery stood immobile and silent.

"Sergeant Binky," reiterated Muns, "I need that repo-"

He caught movement. It was some…creature…that was human, and yet not.

"Sergeant Binky," whispered Muns in a harsh tone, "We have a hostile. Prep the gear. Remember, this is a clandestine operation."

(MEANWHILE OUTSIDE!)

As Fox continued walking, he noticed a roar of an engine. He turned his head and saw a Humvee with high beams activated barrelling down on him.

"Phsssh, all you gas guzzling jerks are the same," he muttered scornfully.

This one was different though. The driver rolled down the window and pointed a rocket launcher at Fox. Fox gaped in surprise and started to run. He could hear the rocket fired. At the last moment, Fox ducked down, just feeling the Rocket past by the back of his head. The rocket ended up destroying a school.

"Damnit," cursed Muns. "I only had one rocket!"

He pulls out small calibre weapons and starts firing. Fox, quick as lightning, managed to dodge them.

As fast as Fox was, he could only run for so long before becoming exhausted. And as horrible the miles to gallon ratio the Humvee had, it was a machine. Eventually, Fox could run no more.

Muns smiled and chuckled deviously. "I got you now, alien menace!"

He revved up the Humvee and hurtled down the alley.

Fox, seeing no other option, pulled out his blaster and starts firing.

He tried destroying the engine block, but the vehicle was armoured to well. He switched his focus to the windowpanes.

The first few blasts cracked the panes. The rest broke through. Muns managed to duck under the salvo, while preventing the Humvee from screeching out of control. He managed to get halt the vehicle

Muns gasped heavily. "That was close, wasn't Sergeant?"

He turned to his solider and horror flooded him. Sergeant Binky had several exit wounds.

Muns reached forward with a quivering hand.

"Binky," he said hesitantly.

The doll didn't respond.

Muns picked up the doll and cradled it. He arched his head back.

"BINKY!" he screamed, voice brimming with anguish.

Fox took that as his cue to hoof it.

* * *

"Wait a minute," said Mewtwo confused, "why are you bald? No where in your tale did you specify how that came to be?" 

"It's not supposed to be in the story," answered Fox. "In the morning, I chewed a piece of gum and blew a big bubble. It exploded, so I asked Falco to give me a trim. It was after that I found out it was his Arwing I crashed."

But wait, thought Mewtwo, something was not computing. "Forgive me, if I seem exacting, but how do you know this maniac's personality so well? You've never met face to face."

Fox pointed at the window. "He's right outside. Go ask him yourself."

There he was, face pressed against the window, with Binky's "corpse" right beside him.

"I know you're in there!" he screamed. "You can't hide here forever! The brains in this mansion will not sustain you forever! And then you'll pay for Binky!"

While the person continued screaming, overlooking Fox for he now resembled an anthropomorphic hairless Chihuahua, Mewtwo phoned the police.


	5. Getaway Link

I do not own super smash brothers. (Danger Danger) OMG the hellhounds are loose!

* * *

Mewtwo stared at Link. Link stared right back.

"It appears," pointed out Mewtwo, "that your vocabulary is less than adequate to carry a conversation."

Link nodded.

"Have you planned a way to remedy this predicament?" asked Mewtwo.

Link nodded again. He checked the digital clock on the wall and turned on the television.

He tuned into a channel that showed a middle-aged man.

"Hello, I'm Jon Welsh." Spoke the man. "This is America's most Hunted."

He starts walking towards the background with a bank.

"Normally cases filter into our files after a few days," he explained, "But, this time I'm making a special exception."

He points at the bank, while glowering. "Those scumbags," he growled, "hit my bank!"

* * *

Link was having problems again. People instantly assumed he was deaf. Because he could not speak, they immediately assume he could not hear. He could hear the snickers from people who thought he dressed like a woman. Usually he fixed that problem by beating them to a pulp.

Unfortunately, assaulting a bus full of the elderly was not going to look good no matter how it was spun.

He walked away as quickly as possible. Once out of their sight, he assumed a more leisure pace.

Today he was heading to the bank. It was nearly Young Link's birthday and Zelda coerced him to buy a present for him. However, technically, Link reasoned he was actually buying a present for himself. Young Link was he when he was younger. But if it was him, wouldn't he disappear since Young Link was not in the appropriate time period? Then how can they both exist in the same period? In fact, would they not cease to exist altogether?

Link shook his head. Time travel always frustrated him.

Near the bank, he noticed a car with its driver seat door wide open. He looked inside. The driver was gone.

He looked around before climbing into the car. He checked the ignition and discovered a key. He turned the key and the engine roared to life.

Just then four people piled into the car. They were all wearing masks and carrying sacks of money.

"Drive," shouted one.

Reacting on instinct, Link immediately pulled from the curb and gunned the engine.

The robbers dumped their sacks of money. They kept their masks on and stared at Link.

"Whoa, Bob," said one of admiring thieves, "that is one hell of Link costume!"

"Yeah," voiced the other two, "where did you get it from?"

Link felt rivets of sweat cumulate upon his brow. He considered throwing bombs at them until he saw the police cruisers.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed the first robber. "Go faster!"

As Link deftly navigated through the streets, narrowly avoiding pedestrians, and making stellar corners, it occurred to him that he could not drive. He panicked and immediately lost control.

"AHHHH!" screamed the passengers.

Link, of course was silent. However, inside, he was screaming.

They crashed into a Zal-mart. Link managed to collect enough sense from his shocked mind to slam on the brakes before they hit a more solid structure. With the car being a total write-off, they clambered out. Standing right beside the wreck was an elderly greeter.

The greeter smiled. "Welcome to Zal-mart."

"What do we do now?" asked one panicked robber.

"Be quiet!" barked the first robber.

As they heard the sirens coming closer, the first robber snapped his fingers.

"I got it!" he crowed.

* * *

The television shows John Welsh walking over the remains of the Zal-wart. "When police arrived, they found five Zal-mart employees, scared but uninjured."

The screen showed composites of the driver and the robbers. They looked like sterotypical thugs, nothing like Link or his temporary associates.

"These people are assumed to be the ones who robbed the bank. If you have any information regarding the theft, contact America's most Hunted. I'm John Welsh, have a good night."

Link flipped the television off and looked at Mewtwo, awaiting the questions he no doubt had.

"I assume that you bribed the greeter to keep silent?" asked Mewtwo.

Link shook his head. He enclosed his forefingers and thumbs into a circle and held it over his eyes.

"He couldn't see?"

Link nodded.

"Which allowed you to steal uniforms without his notice?"

Link nodded again.

"Did you know what happened to the driver?"

Link shook his head.

As they pondered about that, their eyes slowly swivelled to rest on Falcon.

As he noticed their stares, his eyes widened.

He jumped up and slammed a fist against his palm. "THAT'S why I parked at the bank!"


	6. Ness' Folly

I do not own smash brothers. If I did, I would have started production on SSBM 2

* * *

It was quite peculiar for Mewtwo to be sitting across a fellow psychic who happened to be temporary deprived of his cognitive faculties. If only he could watch himself drool and bat at imaginary objects, he would become ashamed at how pathetic he had become.

"Hey, Falcon!" shouted Fox.

"Whas, up, Fox!" he shouted with equal gusto.

"Let's have a contest to see who can drool more than Ness!"

"Steller!" replied an enthusiastic Falcon, "but then let's bat at imaginary objects later!"

"Awesome!" A stoked Fox replied. "Awesome to the Max!"

Mewtwo sometimes wondered if these two were actually powerful and insidious psychics. They knew exactly what pissed him off.

He sent out two powerful bolts of telepathic energy. The blast rendered both drooling idiots, a step below their normal intellectual capacities.

Mewtwo took another sip of coffee and discovered he had an empty mug. He went into the kitchen. Just walking into the kitchen from the side door to the patio was Jeff.

"Good morning, Jeff," greeted Mewtwo. "I assume you were the one that brought Ness home?"

Jeff nodded. "I just contacted Mr. Saturn and Paula. They'll be here soon and then we'll be out of your way."

"May I ask…?"

"Certainly," obliged Jeff. "Before I do, I need your promise that you will tell no one. I am about to reveal some details about Ness that are embarrassing."

Mewtwo arched an eye ridge. "If so, than why bother to tell?"

"If this happens again, I'll need the assistance of someone I can trust."

* * *

Ness was walking down the sidewalk, whistling the melody from a Bon Jovi single. He was heading towards a bingo hall. Now that there were no more monsters haunting Onett, his Father given him a ten-dollar allowance per week in lieu of his bounty hunting during the days of Gigas.

Ness tried blasting inanimate objects, hoping he could fool his Father. It was after blasting apart a container of biohazardous waste did he remember his Father always seem to knew how many enemies he defeated. With that ability, he would have no problem discerning that Ness was simply blasting harmless objects. He gave up soon after.

That cheap bastard, thought Ness.

At the entrance to the Bingo hall stood an employee. As ness tried to get past, the man held a palm outward.

"How old are you?"

"You don't need to know my age," replied Ness.

The employee's face went blank. "I don't need to know my age."

Ness blinked. That never happened before. He shrugged and went inside.

…and stepped off a teleportation pad. Two beings greeted him. Both were enormous Cyclopes with tentacles for limbs.

"Greetings," said one of them, "I am Kang."

He pointed a tentacle to his companion.

"This is Kudos, my sister."

Kudos waved a tentacle. "Hello."

"We are two explorers, who have travelled the vast expanse of your galaxy. We search for new forms of life, to boldly go where no one has gone before."

"Two aliens quoting Star Trek," said Ness in a shady tone. "It sounds to me that you thoroughly explored the trekkies conventions."

"I would not be so conceited if I were you," threatened Kang. "You see we have discovered your source of power."

Ness gave a feral grin. "Well come and get it then!"

Expecting alien rays and androids Ness braced himself.

He did not expect them to take his hat.

"NOOO!" screamed Ness.

"Quickly," commanded Kang, "teleport him back to the surface!"

Kudos rushed to her console and activated the teleportation pad.

They beamed Ness back onto the planet, right next to the bingo hall.

Ness clasped his arms tightly around himself.

"So cold," he uttered.

The bingo hall employee mimicked Ness.

"So cold," he uttered monotonously.

* * *

Mewtwo could not believe this tale. "Ness became catatonic with the removal of his hat?"

Jeff nodded sombrely. "I still have no idea why. His emotional attachment must be immense considering the number of years he wore that hat. It could be that he treasures no other object more."

(In space)

"Kudos," asked Kang, "what have you discern from your analysis of this object."

Kudos presented ten thin rectangular pieces of glossy material.

"The hat contained these inscriptions."

Kang read aloud. "One free Mach Pizza. One per customer per day."

Kudos starred in wonder. "What does it mean?"

Kang pulled his lips back in a devious smile.

"It means we shall have sufficient sustenance for this month's Star Trek marathon."

They both laughed manically for the next hour or so.


	7. Peach’s not so Finest Moment

Sorry for the long wait. I had a busy week.

I do not own super smash brothers

* * *

Mewtwo looked at Bowser and Peach. Both of them had personality traits that were highly discernable.

One was stupid and the other was vain.

No, wait, both were stupid and vain.

However, Mewtwo could piece together the steps that Peach took in order to imprison herself. He noticed an order from a novelty shop.

He looked over the invoice and read the item: "Giant Hamster Maze."

It was scribbled on the invoice. Above, matching the invoice's print and font, said "giant glass box."

* * *

Peach was debating with a person, who happened to listen exclusively to indie music, on the finer points of distinguishing the members of Back Street Boys. 

Since the author has nearly no clue on who the Back Street Boys are, he can't really write a debate between the two. We'll just assume that the music junkie's head exploded as an answer to his prayers for a quick death.

"EWww!" complained Peach. "There's blood all over my dress!"

She walked out after the store patrons and management ran out first in a torrent of screams and panic.

As she walked down the street, she came upon a pet store. She went inside.

She saw a display that showed a hamster running through a plastic maze. It was not a simple construction. The large maze had many pitfalls and dead ends.

She watched in fascination as the hamster avoided the obstacles to arrive in the center of the maze. Its reward? To run the maze again! Oh what fun!

As she stared in awe, the storekeeper stared at her in horror.

"You're covered in blood!" he shrieked.

Peach rolled her eyes. "I know! Like, this guy, his head totally exploded on me!"

The store manager ran away screaming. Peach decided to take the hamster cage, leaving her credit card behind to pay.

Walking through the streets, ignoring the police sirens, she contemplated how happy the fluff ball was going to make her. But as people paid more attention to the hamster, Peach grew incredibly jealous.

Why don't they praise her, she thought. I'm a princess; a princess of the Mushroom kingdom.

She got an idea. If they were impressed with a hamster running through a maze, what would their reaction if she did it?

She would certainly become more famous than some hamster.

When she got home, she phoned up ACME.

"Hello," she spoke in to the earpiece, "I like to know if you provide giant plastic mazes. You do? Great send one over the Smash Brothers Mansion."

(AT THE FREAKIN' MANSION!)

The acme deliver was a coyote. Apparently, someone wasn't up on their payments.

"Here you go that'll be three hundred thousand."

Peach reached for her credit card but came up empty. She cursed the credit card goblins. As told to her by all of the residence in the mansion, they came to steal one's credit card at the most inconvenient times.

She hesitated. "Uhhh, I don't have any credit cards. How bout just letting me have it for free?"

The coyote shook his head. "No dice, cash or no maze?"

Peach stamped her feet. "No," she whined, "I want my maze!"

She fell on her back, started kicking her feet into the air, and pounded her fists against the ground.

The coyote sighed. He went back into his truck and looked around. He spotted a glass box that originally was suppose to be shipped to a client in Toronto. The client defaulted on the payment, so he had to lug it around. Well, he thought, maybe not for long. He hauled the crate onto a porter. He ferried it over to Peach.

He stopped by Peach. She stopped her whining and looked at the crate. It was quite large, thrice her height.

The coyote tapped the box. The box fell apart, revealing a glass box.

"Here you go," he said, "one free maze."

Peach scrutinized the box. "It looks a little small," she criticized.

"It's a maze that you traverse with your mind," he replied, "only the strongest minds can escape this mental conundrum."

Peach starred at it a few more seconds. "Of..of course," she stuttered and scoffed, "I knew it all along."

The coyote plastered a fake smile on his face. "Great! Sign here."

Peach signed the forms and ushered the glass box into the mansion.

* * *

Mewtwo looked at Peach pound uselessly against the box. He wondered how she could forget that the box was bottomless. 

Now she thought she was running out of air. Typically Peach. She collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air. Mewtwo gave it another minute before she "passed out" from asphyxiation.


	8. Insecure Bowser

I do not own super smash brothers…………….what?

* * *

Mewtwo looked at Bowser's attire. The likelihood of someone coercing Bowser to wear clothes had the same chances of convincing the school principal that pot was a learning aid 

He starred at Bowser's pants and making sure that Bowser had noticed that.

The dinosaur shifted in his seat, looking irritated and uncomfortable.

Interesting, thought Mewtwo.

"Say Bowser," he asked, "is there a reason that you are wearing pants?"

Bowser glared at the Pokemon.

"None of your business, ya freak!" he replied gruffly.

Mewtwo hid his smile and went back outside to where the small brat still lied on the lawn.

He levitated the child upright and gave him a light slap across the face.

"Wake up," demanded Mewtwo.

"Wha-wha, don't hurt me!" pleaded the brat.

"I won't if you'll answer my questions."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"I assume that you were tailing Bowser, hoping that he would lead you here"

The kids nodded dumbfound. "That's right. Are you reading my mind?"

Mewtwo permitted a small smile on his face.

"No, I assume that was the case since the location of the mansion itself is not public knowledge."

* * *

Bowser batted away the last of the Christians who had tried to cover him up. Everywhere he went; people always thought that he was flashing. 

He would have incinerated whole towns except the fact that he wanted to distance himself from Godzilla. The comparisons were already starting to creep him out.

He felt a tap on his leg. He looked down and saw a small boy.

"What!" roared Bowser.

"Are you a girl or a boy?" asked the kid.

"What the HELL!" screamed Bowser. "How can you not know I'm a guy?"

The boy looked at him from foot to head.

"Well," replied the boy, "for one thing, guys pee standing up. How bout you?"

"…"

* * *

"Wait a minute," said Mewtwo, "that's it? That is the sole reason he's wearing pants?" 

The boy nodded. "If you were hoping for an epic, I'm sorry."

"That was an incredibly absurd anecdote," stated the pokemon. "So I believe you're telling the truth."

"So you're letting me off the hook?" asked the hopeful boy.

"I think you need a nap."

Mewtwo compelled him to sleep. The boy fell onto the grass, snoring.

If it wasn't for the free rent, Mewtwo would have taken off long ago. The freaks that inhabited this mansion would have many psychologists reconsider their analytical procedures. Shit, why not declare them all insane and save time.

He parked his rear onto the front porch and awaited his delivery of coffee beans. The dump truck should be here in another five minutes. The cargo drop from the plane would be in ten minutes.

* * *

Well, that is the end. Thank you all for your reviews and for reading my story. Now I must sleep in my coffin before the sun rises. 

(Gets into coffin)

GOOD NITE!


End file.
